one," said the lady. "They sold out here almost a year ago
and went back to the States. I have the address somewhere. I'll get it
for you." She went, but was back in a moment.

"Thanks," said Lewis. He did not look at her any more or around him. His
eyes fixed vaguely on distance, as one's eyes do when the mind tells
them they are not wanted.

The lady sat perfectly still and silent. The silence grew and grew until
by its own weight it suddenly brought Lewis back to the present and
confusion. He colored. His lips were opening in apology when the lady
spoke.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

Lewis gave her a grateful look.

"I've been playing about the old place," he said, smiling. "Not alone.
Natalie, Shenton, and I. We've been racing through the pineapple-patch,
lying on our backs under an orange-tree, visiting the stables, and--and
Manoel's little house, hiding in the bramble-patch, and peeking over the
priest's wall." Lewis waved his hand at the scene that made his words so
incongruous. "Sounds to you like rank nonsense, I suppose."

The lady shook her head.

"No," she said--"no, it doesn't sound like nonsense."

Then he asked her about Natalie. She told him many little things. At the
end she said:

"I feel that I've told you nothing. Natalie is one of those persons that
we generally call a 'queer girl' because we haven't the intelligence or
the expression to define them. Our local wit said that she was a girl
whom every man considered himself good enough for, but that considered
herself too good for any man. That was unjust, but it sounded true
because sooner or later all the eligibles lined up before Natalie--and
in vain." The lady frowned. "But she wasn't selfish or hard. She used to
let them hang on till they just dropped off. She was one of those women
that nothing surprises. Her train was made up of the ugly and the
handsome--bore, prude, wit, and libertine. She gave them all something;
you could feel it. I think she got tired of giving and never taking."

"Is she so beautiful?" asked Lewis.

"Beautiful? Oh, no," said the lady, and then suddenly stopped and
straightened. She laughed. "Now I look back on it all, it seems she must
be beautiful, but--but I know she isn't. Now _I'm_ talking nonsense."

"No, you 're not," said Lewis. "There are women like that." He reached
out for his hat and stick.

"You're not going?" said the lady. "You'll stay to tea?"

Lewis shook his head.

"You've been ve